


Why am I Dead?

by MalecAcid



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves-centric, Dead Ben Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Gen, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Klaus Hargreeves, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest, POV Ben Hargreeves, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalecAcid/pseuds/MalecAcid
Summary: Ben remembers the way that he ran to each of his siblings room's in turn, yelling their names and attempting to get their attention. He remembers the way he begged for them to please, please look at him. Please hear him and respond. Please.ORBen remembers everything that happened the day after he died.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Diego Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Why am I Dead?

**Author's Note:**

> sO!! This fic hurts a lot!! As most things I write do!! I'm so sorry in advance jfkxkdkxkdk it's very painful 
> 
> I don't think there are any warnings really? It talks about bens death ofc and briefly mentions a dead body but that's it I'm pretty sure. Either way stay safe while reading!! 
> 
> Title is from the song Dead! by mcr bc I cannot come up with my own titles ever

Ben can vividly remember the day after he died. 

The day of, nothing really registered. The only thing he could really remember was when he first came back as a ghost and stared down at his dead body. Everything that happened after that was just… blank. 

The day after, though, was different. 

He remembers the night before that day, wandering the halls and silently watching the people who lived in the academy. He remembers the tears on a few of their cheeks. He remembers walking into Reginalds office and watching him put a journal labeled "Number Six" in a dusty drawer next to an even thinner one labeled "Number Five." He remembers walking into the bathroom and seeing a small spot of blood in the shower that was washed away after the mission, his blood. Or his victim's blood. He still wasn't sure which one it was. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. 

It was the morning after that night that is the most clear in his memory. 

He remembers walking into Diego's room just as he woke up. He remembers watching him yawn, seemingly content, before he remembered something, and his face became sad. He remembers watching a tear run down his brother's cheek as he stepped further into the room. 

"Diego? What's wrong?" He'd asked, only to get no response. "Diego?" 

All his brother did was move forward to put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair quickly before bringing his palms to his eyes and pushing them harshly as if that would stop them from filling with tears. He bit his lip and took a deep breath in, stifling a sob despite the fact that the only person who could hear him was the very person he was crying for. 

"Diego?" Ben repeated, wondering why he was ignoring him. "Diego, why aren't you answering me?" 

He moved closer and went to tap his brother's shoulder, only to quickly startle backwards when it phased through. He started at his hand in both amazement and fear before he remembered. 

He was dead. 

"Diego!" He said again, despite the realization, and walked closer to him. He attempted to touch him again, but all his hand did was phase through him, making Diego shudder. "Diego!"

Ben remembers the panic that a dead seventeen year old him felt. He remembers the cold and harsh _denial_. He remembers the way his ghostly heart started to pound and the way his lungs tried to get air that they didn't need. 

"Diego!" He had called out again desperately, taking a step back from him and almost falling over in the process. 

Diego chose to look up in that moment, and Ben froze. He was staring directly where Ben was at, and he felt hope start to bloom in his chest and a smile start to form on his face before Diego stood up and promptly walked through him and out of the room. 

He had made a distressed noise, quickly turning around and following Diego out of the room. Instead of following him down the hallway, though, he turned and phased through Vanya's door and into her room with a shudder, walking up to her. 

He watched her sleep for only a moment before he moved forward and phased a hand through her head over and over, calling out her name as if that would wake her. 

"Vanya." He said, voice flat. "Wake up, Vanya." 

When she didn't wake up after a few minutes of this, he had huffed, his breaths starting to come in quicker. 

"Vanya!" He yelled, trying to get her attention and failing. She couldn't hear him. No one could hear him. 

He bit his lip, hard, but when the pain he was expecting didn't register, he huffed again, turning away from Vanya and running out of her room. 

Someone had to hear him. Anyone. 

Ben remembers the way that he ran to each of his siblings room's in turn, yelling their names and attempting to get their attention. He remembers making each of them shudder when he passed his hand through their heads or arms or shoulders. He remembers the way he begged for them to please, please look at him. Please hear him and respond. Please. 

He remembers the way that his throat never got sore despite the fact that he screamed and yelled and cried for hours. He remembers how much that scared him. 

He remembers running into Klaus' room last, knowing that he was awake and hoping, begging to whatever god that may be out there that he would be sober and be able to see him. 

You can imagine the disappointment that he felt when he phased through the door and saw a half empty whiskey bottle clutched tightly in his hands. 

"Klaus," He sobbed, bringing his hands to his eyes and scrubbing them harshly before putting his arms back by his sides and clenching his hands into fists. "Klaus!" He yelled, and for a second he thought that he saw a flinch, or a flicker of something, and once again he let the hope bloom, before it immediately diminished as soon as Klaus brought the bottle back to his lips, taking an even larger swig. 

Ben remembers the way he felt uncomfortable in his skin. The way that he felt like he just didn't belong. The way he just wanted to disappear into a void and never come back. 

That was when the light first appeared. 

He didn't know what it was at first. He wasn't even able to _see it_. All there was was a feeling. An awful, terrible feeling. 

He had turned away from Klaus, wanting to curl up and just wait for something to take him away when all of the sudden it was there. 

It felt as if something was pressing all around him, into him, begging for him to give in. Give in to what, he didn't know. Yet. 

"What the fuck." He whispered to himself as the sensation only grew stronger, crossing his arms over his chest and folding into himself slightly. 

That was when the voices had started. 

Ben remembers the way that they had started out quietly, little whispers that could have been mistaken for just a gust of wind. But then they just kept getting louder and louder until it was all he could hear. 

"Light." A voice whispered, and Ben whipped his head to where he thought the voice had come from only to see an empty room. Even Klaus had left while Ben was distracted with… whatever was happening to him. 

"Go." He heard another voice say, and the pushing sensation grew stronger as he fought against it. "The light. Go into it." 

"No." He mumbled, falling to the ground and wrapping his hands around his knees tightly, bringing them to his chest. "No. No no no no no." 

"Go into the light," A different voice said, louder this time, and Ben shook his head, almost as if he thought he could reason with whoever was speaking. 

"Go!" The voice said again, yelling the word, and Ben let go of a sob. 

He remembers being terrified. He remembers the overwhelming pushing sensation that the light had brought that he still feels a little of in the present. The light never leaves. It's always there, pushing, begging. 

"The light!" The voice yelled again, and Ben slammed his hands over his ears. It did nothing. "Go!" 

"Stop," He whispered, mumbling. "Stop, stop. Stop stop stop." 

Ben remembers the way it didn't stop. He remembers the way the voices grew louder and louder to the point that it felt like they were inside his head. He remembers the way he felt like he was suffocating with the way the force was pressing into him, despite the fact that he didn't need to breathe. He remembers closing his eyes and seeing the brightest light white he had seen in his entire life. 

It was so bright that it hurt, and he had immediately opened them, pressing his hands even tighter around his ears. 

He didn't know what it was. He didn't want to know. 

The one thing Ben doesn't remember is how long he sat like that, eyes wide, surrounded by voices and pressure, curled up and rocking back and forth on the floor. 

What he does remember, though, is a different voice calling out to him, cutting through the yells and the screams and the pressure. 

"Ben," The voice had called out, and it was so relaxed and calm that Ben couldn't help but release his hands from around his ears and sit up a little straighter, even though the other voices continued. 

"Ben," The voice repeated, and he could've sworn he felt the pressure from before lighten a little as a new and different pressure started. 

Ben remembers the way the voice grew louder, but not harsh. The voice stayed soft, calling out his name and pushing into him lightly, not begging for him to give in, but _asking_. It was _asking_ him to go, go to wherever the voice was calling him from. 

He had let the voice call out his name one more time before he finally gave in. 

He closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, and let whatever this new voice and new pressure was take him wherever it wanted him to go. 

Ben remembers opening his eyes as soon as he had felt everything around him shift. 

He remembers seeing the brother he then spent the next seventeen years with standing in front of him, looking to the floor. 

He called out his name.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaa hope you likeddd


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